


Blind date

by NoOtherSyde



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blind Date, Cannibalism Puns, M/M, Nice Hannibal Lecter, Sassy Will Graham, Will Graham & Beverly Katz Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29673792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOtherSyde/pseuds/NoOtherSyde
Summary: Set before the start of the show, Will and Hannibal end up on a (literal) blind date together at a new underground restaurant in Baltimore (based off Dans Le Noir in London).A bit of fluff to get us through these lockdown times!***********************************************************************************************************************************“What do you do for work?”, Hannibal asked.“It’s not really dinner table conversation”, Will replied.“I’ve got a strong stomach”, Hannibal offered.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 151





	Blind date

“Good evening Sir. May I take your coat?”, the waiter asked.

Will handed it to him silently.

“If you follow me downstairs, I’ll show you to your table. I believe your partner is already here”.

Will murmured his appreciation and let himself be led down the stairs into the dark of the restaurant.

He was already beginning to regret his decision to let Bev set him up on a date. He’d sat in his car debating whether or not to go into the restaurant, but eventually decided it would be rude to leave the other man without company.

At the bottom of the stairs, the waiter offered Will his arm and led him round to his table.

Without his vision, Will was becoming more aware of his other senses. He could smell the food being served to other tables. In some instances, he could feel the heat coming off the plates. Eruptions of chatter punctuated his journey across the room, before eventually he reached the alcove of silence where his table sat.

The waiter placed Will’s hand on the back of the chair, allowing him to guide himself into it. Will thanked him, then turned forward to face the inscrutable darkness in front of him.

“Good evening”, the other man said. His voice was warm but authoritative. Will couldn’t place his accent.

“Hi”, Will responded gruffly, then quickly adjusted his tone. “Uh… I’m Will”, he continued a little more softly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Will”, the stranger replied. Will liked how the other man said his name.

“My name is Hannibal”, he continued.

“Hi”, Will said again.

He cursed himself internally; he hadn’t yet managed a word longer than a single syllable. He had promised Bev he'd at least try this evening.

The waiter’s voice interrupted before Will had a chance to speak again.

“I have two dry martini’s for you”, he said, placing them both down on the table.

Will murmured his thanks, reaching tentatively across the table for the narrow stem of the glass.

“Michele wanted to check that there were no changes to your order”, the waiter said to Hannibal. 

“I haven’t had a chance to ask Will”, Hannibal responded.

Will sat silently, a little puzzled.

To offer an explanation Hannibal continued, “the chef here is a good friend of mine. I’ve ordered off the menu. Is there anything you don’t eat?”.

“Uhh… no”, Will replied. “I’ll eat anything”. He was a little taken aback.

“Excellent”, Hannibal responded.

Will heard the waiter leave for the kitchen.  


“Thank you for humouring me”, Hannibal said.

Will shrugged, then remember the other man wouldn’t be able to see the gesture. “That’s okay”, he mumbled instead.

“I’m very particular about what I put in my body”, Hannibal continued. “I worked as a surgeon for many years and I’ve seen what the modern American diet does to the body”.

“Yeah I know what you mean”, Will responded.

There was an occasion where he had watched Beverly remove the fat from a cadaver’s skin in order to dislodge a bullet. He hadn’t been able to erase the thought from his mind of how much it looked like she was scraping off scrambled egg. Will swallowed. 

“What do you do for work?”, Hannibal asked.

“It’s not really dinner table conversation”, Will replied.

“I’ve got a strong stomach”, Hannibal offered. 

“I’m a teacher of sorts”, Will began. “I work at the behavioural sciences unit of the FBI. Mostly it’s classroom based, but occasionally I get to visit the morgues too”.

“What exactly do you teach?”, Hannibal asked.

“Criminal profiling”, replied Will. “It sounds fancy but it’s mostly just pattern recognition”.

“What else is it?”, Hannibal probed.

“Uh.. understanding… I guess”, Will responded. He hadn’t expected the other man to be paying such close attention to his choice of words.

“That’s harder to teach”, Hannibal replied.

“Yeah. You either have it or you don’t”, Will replied.

“When did you realise your ability for it?”, Hannibal asked. The fact that Will had the ability in the first place went unstated.

“I’ve always been fairly perceptive”, Will answered. “I’m good at putting myself in other people’s shoes; understanding their perspective. I worked as cop for a few years in New Orleans and I guess I saw how useful it could be then”.

“Why did you leave the police force?”, Hannibal inquired. Again, Will noted, Hannibal had jumped a step ahead.

“The short answer is I was stabbed”, Will said with a snort. If the morgues hadn’t already put the other man off, the stabbing definitely would.

“The longer answer is that I didn’t enjoy it. It was laborious and frustrating. I didn’t like working to someone else and the culture made me angry. The time I took off to recover made me realise just how much I hated it”. 

As he spoke, Will realised no one had asked him these questions before. This man, who he had met just moments ago and he was yet to even see, had expressed more interest in him and his motivations than anyone else in his life.

Moreover, and perhaps more unusually, Will had been unthinkingly honest with him. His normal high walls had simply disappeared moments into the conversation.

Now however, aware of his vulnerability, he began to withdraw.

“Do you enjoy what you do now?”, Hannibal asked, bringing Will back to the present.

“I’m good at what I do now”, Will responded tentatively, “and on some level it helps people”.

He was well aware he was avoiding the question Hannibal had asked. He felt as if he had already given too much and now needed to seek safety in obfuscation.

Hannibal stayed quiet.

Will felt as if the other man could hear his internal monologue. It seemed that he knew Will’s defences were rapidly rising and that probing further wouldn’t get anywhere.

Will took a sip of his martini.

After an uncomfortable pause, Will eventually ventured “what do you do for a living?”.

“I’m a psychiatrist”, Hannibal responded, his tone completely neutral.

“Oh”, Will muttered. His heart sank. Aware that it was unreasonable, he still felt deceived and disappointed. He’d spent years successfully avoiding compulsory sessions with shrinks and now he had let one in accidentally. They should be like cops, he mused; they should have to announce themselves immediately.

It was in that instant he realised that Hannibal’s occupation was the first and only question he had asked of the other man. He had hardly given him an opportunity to speak.

The waiter returned to their table to serve their starters, disturbing Will’s thoughts. Will took the intermission as an opportunity to finish his martini in one large sip.

“Hand dived scallops, with risotto and carrot and mango puree. Paired with a 2009 Montee de Tonerre Chablis”, announced the waiter.

Hannibal thanked the waiter. Will reached for the wine.

They sat and ate in silence. Despite his growing embarrassment, Will couldn’t quite bring himself to speak; opting instead to focus on the admittedly delicious food.

“I’m not going to psychoanalyse you Will. We’re just having a conversation”, Hannibal eventually stated calmly. “I finished working tonight when my last patient left at six”.

Will offered nothing.

“Anyway, you’re like me”, Hannibal continued, “problem free”.

Will snorted quietly. “Yeah”, he replied “problem free”.

He was smiling in spite of himself.

After a brief pause, Hannibal asked: “why did you come here tonight?”.

“I came to appease a friend”, Will replied.

“They must be very persuasive”, Hannibal said. Will could hear his smile.

“She is”, Will replied. His embarrassment was quickly transitioning to guilt as Hannibal continued to rise above his own rudeness. He decided he was done with being terse for this evening.

“You know”, Will continued, “I told her several weeks ago that I didn’t like eye contact and look where that’s got me”, he said, waving his arms through the pitch black surrounding him.

“She has an excellent sense of humour then”, Hannibal replied.

“I wouldn’t go that far”, Will responded. The grin on his lips continued to grow.

The waiter returned to collect their plates, breaking the flow of their pleasant chatter.

“Was it up to his usual standards?”, he asked.

“It was delicious”, Hannibal replied.

“Excellent”, said the waiter, “I’ll be back with your main course shortly”.

**********************************************

Once he had left, Will inquired “What are we eating next?”.

“Never ask”, Hannibal responded, “spoils the surprise”.

Will heard Hannibal inhale deeply, as if to smell what Will could only assume to be his drink. When he felt the other man’s warm breath on his skin, he was somewhat perplexed.

“Did you just smell me?”, Will asked.

“Hard to avoid”, Hannibal replied - not missing a beat.

**********************************************

The waiter reappeared shortly and announced that they would be eating Chateaubriand with Bearnaise potatoes and mushrooms.

The meat melted in Will’s mouth - the flavour rich and powerful. He moaned quietly. The luxury was entirely other than what he was used to.

Neither Will nor Hannibal spoke for a while, however this time the silence was comfortable.

Eventually Will asked, “what sort of psychiatry do you do?”.

“My research interest is social isolation, however since I’ve been practicing I’ve been forced to become more generalist”, Hannibal replied.

“Why did you decide to start practicing?”, inquired Will.

“Curiosity”, he answered. “As a researcher, you observe and document, but you do not change. I was interested to see how I could assist patients in becoming the most honest and capable versions of themselves”.

“It sounds like self-actualisation”, Will scoffed.

Hannibal was silent for a moment. When he spoke again there was no anger or frustration to his voice, however he was a little quieter.

“I dislike terms such as that greatly. But I suppose what I look to do is not dissimilar. Whatever you wish to call it, there is a great power in recognising and fulfilling what you are capable of, but often significant struggle to reach that state. It’s helpful to have a rudder to steer you through the storm”.

Will couldn’t help but feel that the other man was now directly talking to him.

“It’s a good sales pitch”, Will said. His resolve to no longer be terse was rapidly slipping.

Hannibal laughed.

“You’re very astute Will. I don’t need the business, but you would be welcome at my office any time”, Hannibal replied.

Will was surprised by how quickly his own frustration had been pacified.

“Does this office have a couch”, Will asked teasingly.

“It does, but mostly for aesthetic reasons. If my patients feel comfortable, I prefer talking with them eye to eye”, Hannibal replied.

Will smiled.

**********************************************

The waiter returned to collect their plates and Hannibal requested that he send compliments back to the kitchen.

“Why are you here Hannibal”, Will asked once they were alone again. “It seems a little twee for someone of your tastes”.

“Are you creating a profile of me?”, Hannibal asked. His accent seemed stronger for just a moment.

Will raised his hands in the air, once again forgetting the gesture would be lost to the inky blackness.

“No, no, I’m not. I just don’t go on many dates where someone orders outside of the menu because they know the chef”, Will responded.

“Do you go on many dates?”, Hannibal shot back.

“Not really”, Will replied honestly. Then, after a pause, “you haven’t answered my question”.

Hannibal sighed gently. “Michele has wanted me to visit for a while. He’s been a guest at my table several times and he wanted to repay the favour. I must admit, I was interested by the concept of blindess too”.

Will added ‘chef’ to ‘surgeon’ and ‘psychiatrist’ in the mental picture he was building of the other man. He decided however, to inquire into Hannibal’s latter statement.

“Why?”, Will asked. It seemed to him that the restaurant was the sort of place wealthy college students would go on dates. It wasn’t at all congruent with his impression of Hannibal so far.

“I was interested in the sensory experience. Whether my enjoyment of the food would differ with the loss of my sight. I think alas the aesthetics of the meal hold sufficient importance for me that this is a lesser experience”.

Will smiled. It was the most pretentious thing he had heard in a long time.

“It will also present us with an interesting moment of revelation when we leave”, Hannibal continued. “The Greeks believed that drama arose through revelation, with the concealment and unveiling of identity a key theme within literature”.

Will smiled again. _That_ was the most pretentious thing he had heard in a long time.

“Yes”, Will conceded, “I must admit I’m interested to put a face to the person I’ve been imagining all evening”.

“I’m sorry if this evening has been too akin to work for you”, Hannibal replied - quick as ever.

“I finished working tonight when I taught my last class at six”, Will responded with a smile. “It’s personal interest rather than professional”.

He had meant to simply parody Hannibal’s words form earlier. However, he had instead managed to make them sound deeply flirtatious.

“If it’s not too forward, would you accept an invitation to my home for dessert?”, Hannibal asked.

Will swallowed. He could excuse himself with needing to return home to feed his dogs, however curiosity was getting the better of him.

“I would like that”, he replied quietly.

“Excellent”, Hannibal responded. “We’ll wait for the waiter to guide us out”.

As if on cue, the waiter reappeared seconds after Hannibal finished speaking.

He led the two men back through the restaurant. On the way, Hannibal asked him to thank Michele again and the waiter replied that he would; wishing them the best for the rest of the evening.

As they made their way up the stairs, Will’s heart began to race. He felt as if he was about to present himself naked to Hannibal for inspection, no longer covered by the safety blanket of the darkness.

Normally he didn’t care what people thought of him. It was simply easier if he gave off the impression of being antisocial. It prevented any unwanted intrusions into his personal space.

But tonight, he had let someone in and now, perhaps he didn’t want them to leave.

Will ran his hand through his hair as they took the final couple of steps up to the cloakroom.

The lighting was dim so as to enable their eyes to adjust to the brightness, however it didn’t stop Will from being taken aback when he saw Hannibal.

Will hadn’t been able to visualise how the different components of Hannibal’s character could come together into a singular physical form, yet somehow the man in front of him encapsulated each of them perfectly. He examined Hannibal intently.

His suit screamed opulence. It was midnight blue with a faint mustard tartan and looked like it had been made for him. He was tall and visibly strong, yet moved with grace and intention that wouldn’t be out of place on stage. Despite his fair hair, his eyes were a dark amber colour and had a certain intensity to them. Taken individually, his features were an eclectic collection, however together they formed an attractive man.

Will was broken out of his trance by the waiter handing him his coat. He felt distinctly scruffy in his threadbare trousers and plaid shirt. Out of embarrassment, he stared at the ground.

When he eventually dared look up at Hannibal, he was met with a broad smile.

“Like what you see?”, Will asked self-deprecatingly.

“Very much so”, Hannibal responded.

Will could feel himself starting to blush.

“Shall we?”, he said quickly, moving towards the door and not waiting for a response from Hannibal.

Once they were outside, Hannibal suggested that they drive in convoy to his home. He pointed to the Bentley parked on the other side of the road to illustrate which was his car.

Will nodded, contemplating what sort of psychiatrist owned a Bentley.

As they drove towards Hannibal’s home, the streets became increasingly quiet and the houses larger.

Will was appreciative of the time alone. He was a little perplexed as to how he had got to this point given that he was reticent to attend at all this evening.

To the other man’s credit, he had been the perfect date. Despite Will’s brusqueness, Hannibal had been attentive and warm. Typically, people either avoided Will or worse had a ‘professional curiosity’ about him, whereas Hannibal’s interest had seemed genuine. Although initially alarming, it had been nice to have someone listen to him, to give him the opportunity to voice his feelings.

Will couldn’t help but wonder what the other man saw in him.

He resolved that he would stay for desert then make his apologies. He wasn’t prepared to consider where the rest of the evening might take him.

Eventually, Will saw Hannibal indicate and roll into a driveway. The house that it belonged to was large and gothic in style; imposing against the dark night’s sky.

Once he had parked, Will took a deep breath, then jogged from his car to join Hannibal in the entrance hall of the house.

As Hannibal shut the door behind him, Will felt a wave of nervousness break over him.

“We can eat in the kitchen”, Hannibal said, leading the way through the hall.

Will followed a little behind, taking in the design of the space. He marvelled at the attention to detail; the matching of the shade of the picture frames to the colour of the vases. It was lavish without being distasteful; the sort of design which populated the home improvement magazines in the veterinary practice reception.

Hannibal’s kitchen was something to behold. It was a vast, but orderly space. Further, it was clinically lit and meticulously clean. 

Hannibal gestured for Will to take a seat at the breakfast bar. Then turned to retrieve something from the fridge.

“You must forgive what this looks like” Hannibal said, turning back from the fridge with two pre-made desserts. “I did not premeditate bringing you home”.

Will smiled sheepishly.

“I hosted a dinner party last night and two guests had to leave before desert”, Hannibal said whilst pouring a small volume of what looked like liquified jam onto each plate.

“They won’t be invited back”, Will jested.

“No, they won’t”, Hannibal replied authoritatively - although a smirk graced his lips.

He laid the plates out then joined Will at the breakfast bar.

“Vanilla soufflé with a fruit of the forest coulis”, Hannibal announced.

“Thank you”, Will replied, “it looks delicious”.

They ate in silence and Will was aware of Hannibal glancing occasionally to check that he was enjoying his food.

“I don’t normally do this”, Will said eventually.

“Eat dessert?”, Hannibal asked, raising his eyebrows coyly.

Somewhat embarrassed, Will could muster no more than a small smile.

**********************************************

“What made you want to come back with me tonight?”, Hannibal asked.

“Your offer of dessert”, replied Will with a wry grin.

He was well aware of the implications of coming back to the other man’s home, however he wasn’t sure that he was prepared to deal with them yet. He had chosen his words carefully so he could feign innocence without coming across as rude.

“There’s no obligation for you to stay for anything more”, Hannibal responded gently. “I understand your desire to defend your sense of self. When one is frequently either misunderstood or fetishised, it becomes sensible to build protective forts”.

Despite the sudden serious turn of the conversation, Will was still smiling. It felt as if Hannibal did truly understand.

**********************************************

“I… I was curious to see what might happen”, Will replied softly to Hannibal’s original question. 

“You make it sound as if you have no agency over how our evening might continue”, Hannibal said.

“I told you I don’t date. This is uncharted water for me”, Will replied, moving his eyes down to his empty plate to divert his gaze from Hannibal. “I don’t know what to expect from myself”.

Hannibal nodded. “What would you like from me?”, he asked.

Will’s eyes briefly flicked up to Hannibal’s, then once again down to his plate.

“I’d like a whiskey if you’ve got one”, Will replied, laughing nervously.

“An excellent start”, Hannibal answered. “May I suggest we retire to the living room, I have a bottle there”.

Will followed Hannibal down the hallway to yet another grand room. Hannibal poured them both whiskey and indicated that Will join him on the sofa facing the fire.

Once they were both on the couch, Hannibal stretched his arm out behind Will. The simplicity of the gesture was disarming. Will felt like a teenager in a movie theatre.

“What would you like from me?”, Will asked tentatively. Hannibal telling him what to do would make this easier.

Hannibal moved his and quickly to place a finger over Will’s lips.

“A good host does not place demands on his guest”, Hannibal said authoritatively. “I’m here to fulfil your wants”.

Will swallowed. Hannibal’s hand moved from his lips to caress his jaw.

“I want you to kiss me”, Will said quietly.

Instantly, Hannibal’s lips were against his. The kiss was chaste and gentle but betrayed a much greater need.

Hannibal drew back from Will’s mouth but kept his hand beneath Will’s chin.

“Again”, Will said with a little more confidence.

This time Hannibal was more forceful. His other hand reached for Will’s hip and grasped it tight.

Will’s tongue darted inside Hannibal’s mouth and Hannibal held it greedily. Will’s hand’s moved to Hannibal’s hair and took fistfuls of it.

Hannibal manoeuvred them so they were lying on the couch with Will above him. Here they paused for a moment to catch their breath.

Will stared into Hannibal’s dark eyes. He felt his franticness pacified.

“Take me to bed”, Will said authoritatively. 

Hannibal shifted again and scooped Will up, carrying him out of the room in a bridal fashion. In the firm grasp of the other man’s arms, Will felt safe and excited for what the rest of the night would bring.

**********************************************

As the morning light crept through the curtains and began to illuminate the room, Hannibal was able to finally see Will in detail. Still asleep, the other man’s eyelids fluttered delicately, his long eyelashes creating small shadows across his face.

Hannibal smiled. He had spent so long the previous evening wanting to see the face of the strange, defensive man who sat across from him. Now, he found he didn’t want to look away.


End file.
